


Sister Dear

by Sweetlittlevampire



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Loss of Parent(s), Other, Sadness, Siblings bond, Snapshots, death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 14:03:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20490080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetlittlevampire/pseuds/Sweetlittlevampire
Summary: Albus Dumbledore loved his sister…just not as well as he should have done.A snapshot in time, taken after Kendra Dumbledore's passing, and before Albus Dumbledore's meeting with Gellert Grindelwald.(More notes at the end.)





	Sister Dear

This was not going according to plan.  


With a swift but violent movement of his arm, Albus Dumbledore cleared his whole desk off anything that might have been located on it: books, his petroleum reading lamp, various scrolls, a magnifying glass, the inkwell and feather that he usually kept so delicately placed in the upper right corner of said desk.

Now, everything went flying, and the inkwell, together with the petroleum lamp, shattered loudly on the wooden floor.  


(Later the same day, Albus was glad that he had suffered this mini-meltdown during daytime. Had the lamp been lit, he would probably have set the whole house on fire.)  


Sighing deeply, he removed his reading glasses, passed his hands through his auburn hair, before crossing his arms on the desk and burying his face into them. He should have been in Greece, by now, visiting ancient temples and looking at pre-Christian magic rituals. Or Italy, studying the great magical literary works of Rome and Florence while enjoying the exquisite Muggle artwork displayed in these ancient cities. He should have been having the time of his life with his best friend Elphias, exploring even the most remote places of Europe, gaining knowledge, making names for themselves, and having fun.

Instead, the untimely passing of his mother had changed everything. He had been summoned home right after his graduation, now the sole caretaker for his two younger siblings. He didn’t want Aberforth to quit school, and someone had to look after Ariana, so there was no way he could just get up and leave.  


_Ariana. It was all her fault_.  


As quickly as the thought had crossed his mind, Albus sat upright, scolding himself. The girl was a victim herself; she was uncapable of controlling the power within her. What had happened was an accident – she would never have wanted their mother to die.

And yet, through the remorse and the pain and the grief, Albus could feel it – the anger. It was irrational, but he couldn’t shake it. He simply couldn’t; he found the feeling to be way too intense.  


Albus Dumbledore loved his sister, but he couldn’t stop himself from blaming her.  


In a way, he blamed Aberforth, too. Maybe he should have supervised Ariana in a better way; maybe, if he would have been there at the right time, in the right place, he could have prevented this tragedy from happening.

Deep down, Albus knew that there had been nothing Aberforth could have done. Once Ariana had one of her outbursts, all one could really do was run for shelter. He was certain that Aberforth would have done everything to calm Ariana down and to protect Kendra had he been home; he knew Aberforth, and he knew that he wasn’t a simple coward who would have let their mother die just to save his own skin.

_Perhaps, it was all my fault_, he thought. Perhaps he should have stayed at home, after what had happened to his sister and their father. He was smart; he could have learned everything he needed to know at home, all while searching for a way to help his sister, potentially even cure her, if such a thing was even possible.

His mother had left him with no choice though. Kendra wanted her eldest son to attend Hogwarts, deeming it a waste of talent and intelligence if he were to stay home. Likewise, it was her who sent Aberforth to Hogwarts as well, even though he was suggesting to stay with them to look after the household, the animals, and his sister, in order for his mother to get some rest. She was a very intelligent woman herself, who always put her children first, especially after Ariana’s accident and Percival’s demise. Albus sometimes wondered if she, too, blamed herself…had she paid more attention to what her daughter was doing, perhaps these Muggle boys would never have gotten to her, and subsequently her husband would still be alive.

  
Albus shook his head, resting it again on his forearms. This was all useless; it didn’t change or enhance the situation in the slightest. Yes, he would have preferred to be abroad now, to go on the trip he had been planning and looking forward to for years, but ultimately – Aberforth and Ariana were his family, the only ones he had left in his direct vicinity. He could always postpone the trip; Greece wasn’t going anywhere, after all.  


Suddenly he heard a very shy knocking on his door.  


“It’s open”, he tiredly said, sitting himself back upright.  


The door slowly opened. A blonde head with long hair and big blue eyes peeked shyly into the room.  


There she stood: his little sister, fourteen years of age, in her favourite blue dress, a satin ribbon in her hair, and a bouquet of freshly picked flowers in her hands. She was quite lovely to look at – like all the Dumbledore children she had the nose of her father, but her eyes and lips reminded Albus more of his mother. No one would have guessed what had happened to her just by looking at her. Or how dangerous she could be.

Gingerly she stepped into the room, avoiding the shards of broken glass and china and the puddles of ink on the floor.  


“I heard strange noises”, she said softly. “I was afraid you might have hurt yourself.”  


Sweet sweet Ariana; always worried about the wellbeing of those around her. She rarely talked; many people thought her to be mute. The truth was that she only spoke to people she really trusted, and her brothers surely were amongst those people.

Albus looked at the shattered decor pieces on his floor and realised what he had done. Sighing, he took his wand. Nothing a quick Mending and Scouring Charm couldn’t fix. Still, he was a bit embarrassed to let anyone see his room (and himself) in this state.  


“It’s nothing, Ariana, I…I just got a bit frustrated, that is all.”  


He couldn’t bring himself to lie to her.  
  


She looked at him for a while, before lowering her gaze, and almost whispering, she said:  


“It’s my fault, right? It’s because I killed Mama.”  


Albus raised his head and opened his mouth to speak.  


_No, of course not! I’m just being silly; everything’s going to be fine. I’ll stay with you; we still have each other. We can make it work, together! Don’t you worry._  


He couldn’t say anything. Ariana could be very direct in her honesty, sometimes even almost blunt, and…she was not entirely wrong.  


So he shut his mouth again.  


“I noticed how sad you were at lunch, so I wanted to bring you flowers to cheer you up…but I guess since it’s me who is making you sad, I’ll just leave.”  


“No! Ariana, I – please. I am sorry.”  


And he truly was. Despite all of the hard feelings he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tried, despite all of the bad conscience he had because of it – this was still his little sister. His Ariana, who had loved to ride on her brothers’ shoulders when she was still a toddler. Who’s laugh could make the sun come out on a rainy day. Who had tried to read to Albus and Aberforth while both were bedridden with flu and fever, barely even capable of reciting the alphabet herself.

Sometimes he was even jealous of Aberforth. She spent far more time with him, and he was the one who was better at calming her down, even better than their own mother had been…which was only normal, considering that Albus usually spent way more time studying and researching than socialising with his siblings. There were things in his life that seemed more important to him; he, the son of a Muggle murderer who had become the star student of Hogwarts! What was feeding goats and weaving flower crowns with a girl worth compared with what he could _actually_ achieve?  


If he had only known, back then, how much he would grow to regret this train of thought later; maybe it would have changed everything for the better. For now, in this very instant, he saw the sadness in his sister’s eyes, and felt the sting of guilt in his heart.  


He was arrogant. He was selfish. He was indeed brilliant, and immensely underwhelmed by the life Godric’s Hollow had to offer to him.  


But he was still Albus Dumbledore, son to Kendra and Percival, and brother to Ariana and Aberforth. He loved his family, even though his post-pubescent self didn’t allow it to come to the surface.  


Most importantly, Albus Dumbledore loved his sister. He really did…just not as well as he should have done.  


Slowly, Ariana lifted her gaze again to meet her brother’s eyes. She extended the hand holding the bouquet to him, it was obvious that she had picked the flowers herself.  


“You haven’t been outside much”, she spoke on. “Mama always used to say that we need sunlight and nature to be happy. So I thought I’d bring nature to you.”  


Albus didn’t know how to reply to such a statement. He carefully took the bouquet out of her hands and looked for a vase or tall glass to put them into. He found one and placed it onto his desk.  


“Thank you”, he said, smiling at her.  


She smiled back at him and took his hand, a tiny but very tender gesture. Her thumb traced circles onto the back of his hand, as if to console him, and Albus couldn’t help it and sobbed. He raised his other hand and wiped at his eyes, not wanting to cry in front of his sister.  


Ariana cocked her head very gently, let go of Albus’ hand, and stepped forward to wrap her arms around his torso. Albus stiffened, surprised by the hug, but relaxed soon after and began to caress the back of Ariana’s head.  


“You know”, she began. “I might be spending more time with Aberforth. He certainly does give better hugs…but please, never forget that I love you too, Albinus.”  


_Albinus_.

A nickname their mother had sometimes used. He had hated it with a passion; now his heart hurt from hearing it again. Ariana was the only one left in the household who was allowed to call him that way.

He held her closely.  


“ I love you too, little buttercup. I know I don’t show it too often, but I really do. “  


“I know…you’re just complicated. And a _boy_”, she added, imitating the tone her mother had used while complaining about the men in her household.  


Albus couldn’t help it; he just had to laugh at this. He looked down at his sister, who beamed up to him, innocently and sweet and full of affection. Her pretty face, that reminded him so much of his mother.

The woman whose life she had taken.  


Why couldn’t he shake these hard feelings towards her? Why was he like that? It was an accident, and he knew that!  


The laugh died down on his face, and the familiar mix of rage, grief, and guilt returned.  


He gave Ariana’s cheek one more caress.  


“Aberforth should be back soon from the market; maybe you could help him with the kids? You could feed them their bottle; I know how much you like doing that.”  


She smiled up at him again and nodded happily. Before she left, she reached up and tugged at Albus’ collar, pulling him down to just above her height. She rose to her tip toes and pressed a kiss onto his left cheek before stepping away just as gingerly as she had arrived.  


He stood there for a long time, with his fingertips touching the spot where her sister had placed the kiss upon his face. He knew it was meant as a means to show her affection for him.  


He couldn’t help but feel as if it was Judas who had just kissed him.

And he hated himself for it.

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by my own struggles with grief, loss, and guilt. My situation is slightly different, but it inspired me to explore how Albus might have felt, what his train of thought was regarding his sister and the death of his mother. Of course, there are many ways as to how one could interpret the mind of Albus Dumbledore in that particular situation; this is only my take of it.
> 
> (Also, the term "kids" refers to "baby goats" here, not actual human babies.)
> 
> This is my second ficlet ever, and my first time writing Albus, so I'm not sure if he's OOC, and if so, how much. I apologise in advance; that wasn't intentional.  
As per usual, here's the reminder that English is not my native language.
> 
> Thank you for stopping by, and enjoy reading!


End file.
